Thou shall Kill
by gaaras.sand.blackforest
Summary: Nagisa murders someone close to him. Karma comes to his rescue. Koro-sensei undergoes an amazing and frightening change. How will the world and class E react to Koro-sensei in human form and...will with still be able to kill him when the time comes?
1. Chapter 1

Nagisa looked over the wrecked living room. The light was very bright, but he understood everything his eyes took it. From the broken things being dangerous, to the fact that the food on the table was ruined, with the plate swept off onto the floor. Some were broken, and there was not eating that. Beyond the seating area, where the kitchen was located, there were dishes that needed to be rinsed and put into the dishwasher.

But, perhaps the most important thing, was the body laying on the floor.

He had killed this woman. The wounds on his body hurt dully; a familiar pain. How many times had he been grabbed hard enough to leave him aching, but never enough to show. He could not remember a time in his life when his mother had not dominated his self-preservation mode. The first law of instinct, was survival. To survive. To live out the day. To stay sane. He had been doing those kinds of things, since he had been three years old.

His mother had lost her mind, or maybe never been sane to begin with.

Maybe her mother had driven her crazy with self-doubt and endless screaming about never being good enough. Nagisa did not really care, though. How was that his problem? Why was he living with that forced onto him?! Why had he had to be the one to murder her?!

Looking at the blood on his hands, his own blood, her blood, it was the same. It was the same blood!

Tilting his aching head back, aware that he had a concussion from being slammed into the table, Nagisa let out a long slow sigh. He would not accomplish anything now. No dreams awaited him. Because, in a very short among of time, people would arrive; he would probably be charged as an adult. He was only thirteen, but given his 'special training', he did not think that mattered anymore. One way or another, he would spend his life in a prison. Probably a military facility somewhere.

He did not want that!

And then, the phone rang.

Startled by this sound, Nagisa picked up the cell phone in his red hand. It was Karma-kun. Well, if it was Karma, then he could just be blunt and honest about it. Because, Karma was also red. He had always been the kind of person who could hit others, draw blood, get dirty. He enjoyed it, though. Nagisa did not know anything about Karma-kun's home life, though, and he felt guilty about not asking.

"Karma-kun…" He muttered, his voice raspy.

"Whoa, Nagisa-kun, you sound horrible!" He said, in his lilting, fake-friendly tone. "The Tako keeps spamming me, so I'm calling you to block him. Do you have the answer to that social studies question."

"Social studies?" Nagisa had practically forgotten something that mundane existed. "No. I don't. Say, Karma…" He looked over the room. "…how have you avoided going to prison all this time? You've always gotten into trouble and fought guys. Someone them got badly hurt, too."

There was a long slow pause. "What happened?!" He demanded. "There is no fucking way you would ask me that question! What happened? Did someone attack you?!"

"Yeah." Well, she had. "That's nothing new, though." He said, because he felt deranged and a little resentful of how Karma could so easily get into fights.

There was a hiss, then a sigh. "Where are you right now?!"

"At home." Nagisa replied, blandly. "Are you coming to save me?"

"Hold on." Karma said, shortly. "Just…don't do anything and stay put."

Walking around the body, sitting on the couch numbly, Nagisa thought about his early childhood. His father had been home more and they had both doted on him. And he had felt loved and protected. One day, his mother had bought him a dress though. She had started to instruct him on how to dress, walk, talk, and he had felt upset by it. Because, it was always about things she had never been allowed to do. His father had tried to stand up for him, but he had lost work and she had never let him get a word in edgewise. Eventually, they had separated, and Nagisa had thought he would be saved.

But, he had not gone with his father. His father was barely able to support himself. And for so many year, long year, empty year, painful year, he had tried to please a steadily unravelling woman.

He was not a girl.

He was not smart.

He was just clever.

The door opened – it wasn't even locked – and Karma came in. He looked over the room, his eyes taking in everything including the body. Then he proceeded cautiously. "Nagisa?" He said, without honorifics. "Are you okay?"

Turning, hearing those words…the words he wanted to hear most in the world…Nagisa felt his lip tremble. He had no tears, though. His poor battered brain could not even manufacture enough energy to cry. "I killed her." He said, stated. "She wasn't sane." Was that a reason or an excuse? "She grabbed me and hit me." But he had never asked for help. "My training kicked in and I killed her." Because he was an assassin. "I don't know what to do." Yes, because he was tired and his head hurt. "I'm tired." He was so exhausted.

Karma was staring at him, as if he was looking at something even more disturbing than a six-foot mutant octopod. Then his lips pressed together, and he shut his eyes for a moment. He let out a slow sigh. "Can you walk?" He asked, softly. "If you can't, that's fine too. Basically, you've got two choices. You can just tell the world about it. Or you can cover it up."

"They'll lock me up." He turned, lamenting it. "But, the evidence…there's blood and the body…"

"There are…ways of getting rid of that." Karma muttered, turning to look around. "I'm mostly worried about Korosensei's sense of smell, but I think we can divert his attention. He's very interested in protecting us, although I don't know why. He said that, right? That allowing us to die is not an option for him." He lifted a hand. "So we just need to trick all the regular humans out there. That's easier than you'd think."

"What do you mean?" Looking at him, Nagisa felt that this boy was very impressive and handsome.

"We lie…by telling the truth. She's just dead, and that can happy any old way." Karma lifted a finger. "Altering reality to make people believe something is not that hard. If it is something those people want to believe. I'll handle the body, you go pack an over-night bag."

Doing as bidden, having to rely on Karma's wit, Nagisa packed what he could into his gym bag. He thought about changing, but then realized his clothes were all bloody. With two people's blood. Coming out of his room, he looked at Karma – he had returned already, and looked satisfied. "Okay, those clothes need to go. Give them to me, I'll get rid of them. I know an old incinerator we can crank up without drawing attention."

Following him, Nagisa noted that his mother's care was gone. Whatever Karma had done with it, and the body, he did not bother to ask. He just followed Karma mutely, to a small single room flat. Karma lived there alone, apparently, but it was not run down or anything. He seemed comfortable, in fact.

Taking a shower there and putting on a spare set of sleeping clothes Karma gave him, he lay down and went straight to sleep. The next day, he did not go to school with Karma, though. Karma took the message to Korosensei that he was 'not feeling well'.

Karma came into class putting out an aura of murderous intent. Everyone in class kept their eyes fixed on their desks, and even Kurosensei approached him with extreme caution. He flung his homework at the non-human, and glowered the entire day. By the end, he had cooled somewhat, and he was merely affecting a 'bad mood'.

Karasuma-sensei asked him blandly if anything had 'come up', because his greatest concern was that some assassin might mess them up after school. "You people think he's the biggest problem in our lives, don't you? Well, whether the world ends next year or not doesn't matter if we don't live out the term!" He snapped, gritting his teeth. "Some of us don't exactly have perfect lives, OK!"

Stalking away, he glanced back. Yes, how small the man look. How worried.

Three days later, with Nagisa still not in school, Karasuma-sensei pulled him in for a meeting. "What happened?" He asked, firmly. "Nagisa isn't the type not to come to school for this long."

"You gonna torture me is I don't talk?" Karma demanded, glaring back at him. "You think this is the first time Nagisa has been 'sick'? You don't know jack-shit about him!" He looked out the window. "He's at my place right now. He couldn't take it anymore and ran for it. After getting his head slammed into the table a few times."

"What?!" Karasuma-sensei stared at him.

"You really didn't see it?!" Karma asked, getting up. "You think he's super stealthy assassin mode all the time because he thinks it's cool? I've known him for a while, and I knew right away that if he wanted to, he could kill a few people. But the thing is, he's hypervigilant because he might get killed. His mother's a complete nutter in the head." He waved a hand before his face. "The last time it was this bad, Nagisa was absent for a while too. He 'took a fall down some stairs', I think is the official reason. So obvious. Not like the teachers give a damn, though. Not in this school." He sneered.

Karasuma-sensei shut his eyes and sat down. "No, I did not know he was being abused." He turned and called out to Korosensei. "Do you know about Nagisa-kun's home environment?"

"I know he's a little 'too good'." The octopod replied, softly. "Karma-kun, is Nagisa seriously injured? I'm worried about him."

"He's got a moderate concussion and some cuts on his arms." He gestured. "He's pretty spazzed out too. Because, you know, he just bolted. Normally, he's the defensive type. But when it's Mommy Dearest?" He sighed, rubbing his neck. "In a fair fight, I'd win, hands down. But in an unhinged frame of mind, I won't take him on. I just let him crash at my place because his mother doesn't know what I live. I figured at least he won't get any more bruises or anything."

"He should see a doctor." Karasuma-sensei said, in an undertone. "We can provide doctors that his mother will not be able to know about. All confidential of course. And if the abuse is that severe, there are agencies that will provide alternative living arrangements for children under fifteen." He swallowed, his brows pinched. "This school is probably at fault for that, too, though."

Karma burst out laughing. "Riiiight, like all those bodies no one counts." He sighed, looking away. "Do you know how many suicides happen at this school? None. Zero. Of course not. That would mar the image." He sighed. "Karasuma-sensei, this is where we all got stuck. None of the parents of the children going here, live in the same reality as you do. Even him…" He jabbed a thumb at the octopod. "…why didn't anyone start bloody screaming when he came into the classroom? Because its 'par for the course' to us. Compared to what we've seen the other teachers do? He's completely normal."


	2. Words

Nagisa looked up as Karma came in, followed by Karasuma-sensei. Nervous, and trying not to throw up again, Nagisa did not speak. He just looked at the adult, who was so strong and yet, rather frail. He looked uneasy, but he slowly came closer. After a few moments consideration, he knelt beside the futon and gently moved the sleep shirt aside to look at some of the bruises.

His expression never changed, but his eyes were blazing. Such righteous anger; so very pure. It was because he was looking at a child, and one he felt he had to protect.

Frowning, resenting him a little, but also a bit empty, Nagisa glanced at Karma. His brows twitched; that was a 'keep your mouth shut'. So, if he was saying it, or rather, not saying it, then Karasuma-sensei did not know the truth. Or, if he did, he was also not going to talk about it.

"I'll come back to school tomorrow." Nagisa said, thinking that he would be marked as truant if he missed anymore days. Their school was not just strict, it was sadistic. Normally, given his circumstances, he would have given up and gone to a less difficult school. But, he did not want to have his memories messed with, regarding Korosensei. He was not even sure how the government removed memories, but it sounded unpleasant.

Looking over at the window, he let out a sigh.

"You need to see a doctor, Nagisa-kun." Karasuma-sensei said. "I will make sure that the school does not expel you or punish you for this." Could he now? "It is entirely outside your control, after all." He believed this because he did not know the truth. "And I am sorry to say that I failed to notice your situation, so I apologise for that." He was trying to take the blame, so he could vent his emotions. "For right now, please concentrate on getting your strength back."

"My strength?" He looked over, frowning. "Oh, because I have bruises. But, I'd always had bruises." He looked away. "They just didn't show. And I never asked for help, before. I mean, I know that it was bad and I didn't like it. I wanted it to stop. But, there are few people who help with that kind of thing." He frowned. "Fewer when your mother is making a lot of money."

The adult scowled. The first time he really looked flat out disgusted. "Did you even once ask someone to help you?" He asked, softly.

Thinking about this, Nagisa looked back through his memories. There were so many good ones, with his friends, and even his parents. Yet, the predominant feeling that he got, was that he was not essential to the scene. Realizing that that was why his aptitude for assassination was higher, Nagisa smiled. "Yeah, back when I didn't know any better." He glanced at Karma, who seemed to be reserving judgement for now. "Karma knows it. How the teachers act; they don't see us. In my case, I'm also dumb. I was to a good elementary school, too, one of the best." He looked down. "I don't know how much, exactly, but my mother paid more money to make them take me. And to make sure it looked like I was a good student. Otherwise, I wouldn't have even gotten into this school."

Karasuma-sensei shut his eyes, looking down. "That is an ongoing problem. It is handled in a different department from mine, but the government is aware of it. It is a crime." He licked his lips, then let out a sad sigh. "Right now, your mother is missing. She appeared to have left your house, gotten into her car, and gone somewhere at a high speed. Probably in a peak of emotion. We looked for her, but…"

"The sea of trees." Karma said, thoughtfully. "I wonder if she finally just lost it? Well, I mean, Nagisa is not going to stay girly forever, right? And in the end, she can't make the entire world treat him the way she wants. No amount of money will buy the world. So, after hitting Nagisa, and realizing that she's already lost by default, she just left…and then what?" He lifted a hand. "…if it had been a situation where she was just ignoring Nagisa, she would have still gone to work."

"That is correct." Karasuma-sensei nodded. "Sharp, as usual, Karma-kun. However, we cannot say that publicly until her body…or at least evidence of her death…has been found."

Evidence?

What constituted 'Evidence of Death'?

Karma put a hand to his chin. "I see. But what about Nagisa? He can stay with me, I don't really care. But long term…that might be a problem on my end." He lifted a hand. "I suppose I could just beat the landlord into it, though…"

"No." Karasuma-sensei retorted, standing up. "Nagisa-kun, contrary to your understanding, there are youth facilities where you can live up until eighteen years of age. This is not the same as an orphanage, but it functions the same. The other option, is for you to go and live with your father."

"My…father…" Nagisa blinked. "Oh, I forgot." He had. He had just not bothered to think about a useless man. Even short and weak-limbed as he was, he had never thought of himself as effeminate before. Nor was he any less of a man than Karma, because he pulled his own weight. It was part of why he had not screamed and made a fuss every single time his mother went off. So, to him, his father was probably the least manly person he knew. It was not even enough to hate him for it. "I don't think he can financially support two people, but I can talk to him. He won't hit me or anything." He looked to the side. "Does he know what happened?"

"Only that your mother is current missing, as we had to network through him. In case she had contacted him." Karasuma-sensei frowned slightly. "You did not trust him enough to go to him in a time of crisis, so I am uneasy with you living together. Until your mother is found." He looked to the side. "However, he is your family. Sometimes, people show their greatest weakness in times of crisis, and other times, they find their courage. If you want to speak to him, and explain, I can be present during the conversation."

Nodding, slowly, making sure to check-in with Karma-kun, Nagisa felt his stomach clench and put a hand to his mouth reflexively. He could not stop it, though, and doubled up over the bowl next to him. Spitting out the very tiny amount of food he had managed to eat, he gritted his teeth. His head was clear, but the rest of his symptoms were not going away as rapidly as they should have.

"You're throwing up? Does your head hurt? What about your vision, is it blurry?" Karasuma-sensei had taken out his phone, and was obviously calling for transportation to take them to a hospital.

"No, I think she drugged me." Nagisa replied, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Karma-kun, sorry. I…" He frowned. "…no, never mind."

"Oh?" Karma-kun came over, leaning down toward him, getting in his face offensively. "Just what do you think I am, anyway? I'm not going to attack you when your puking." His eyes moved to the reflective surface of the window, watching as Karasuma-sensei moved to the genken to talk to the person on the phone. In barely a whisper, he spoke up. "I'll do something about that 'evidence'. I already prepared something of the sort. You think about what you want to do, and then do it, Nagisa. Because no matter what, you did it. And that won't change just because you get away with it."

Stunned, and relieved for some reason, Nagisa shut his eyes. Hearing someone else say it, made him acknowledge it. He had killed someone. He was a murderer, but, he was not dirty. Just like all the other humans out there who had killed someone. In self-defence, or even out of revenge. Maybe the only reason they had, was that they were on opposite sides of a border. There was no reason to even blame himself for it; it didn't matter if he killed. It mattered that he live rightly and justly, and treat people with kindness while they were alive.

Lip trembling just a little, Nagisa smiled as he looked up at Karma. "You live up to your name, Karma-kun." He said, a tear running over his face. "But, thank you."


	3. Acceptance

There was no avoiding some media attention in this. However, although the case did make the news, no one listed by name and the school was never features. Naturally, some people did recognise the mansion where their apartment had been, but Nagisa did not think it was likely anyone would hunt him down to ask him questions.

After two days on an IV, he was back to normal. He had been given a drug, which not only had some nasty side effects, it had caused something of an allergic reaction. He had luckily gotten rid of most of it already, so they had not had to pump his stomach, but he had been miserable all of those two days.

Now, he was up and moving around the ward. He had spoken to a psychologist; someone who understood that he had training a normal thirteen-year-old did not have. Even this man did not know the details, such as a six-foot octopod planning to blow up the earth in little over half a year's time. But he did understand that some kind of special ops training programme was going on, and he was one of the people being trained. Thus, he was treated no differently from any other special officer.

It felt good to be treated respectfully. Sasaki-san's job was not to lecture him about his math scores, after all, he was just there to help make him feel more confident. For the first time, Nagisa had been allowed to tell someone everything. And he had been given a literal explanation for what his mother had had wrong with her.

Paranoia. Antisocial Personality Disorder. Obsessive Complex. And, very probably, severe PTSD from being neglected or abused as a child.

He had suspected most of it himself, but hearing a professional say it, had left him with a clearly mind and heart. There had been treatments she could have gotten, medication and talk therapy. But she had never sought it out. If was not his fault, either, and while the psychologist did not know he had killed her, he did say that nothing she had said or done was realist.

Letting himself heal, Nagisa thought about his life going forward. He had already done it, and no one knew about that. Even though his life would seamlessly go on, and his mother was just 'not there anymore', he knew the truth. He had been thinking about it for a while anyway, that he had the steel for killing people. There was that moment, he thought, when people's gut clenched and they couldn't do it. Stabbing someone, or shooting them, or breaking their necks. It required contact. Even poison was not really any less intimate, since if you were close enough to put something in their wine goblet, you would probably at least see them die.

He did not think he would mind doing that to some people. The assassins he had met so far, were normal human beings. If it was one of those horrible people that raped babies or something, he did not think murdering them was such a bad thing. And what about the people that killed millions with their pens in fancy offices somewhere? He understood that society had to move forward by enforcing laws, of course, and assassination was not a first choice by far. But in times when some politician was literally going to cause genocide, he did not think killing them was immoral.

Troubled over this, because it presented a difficulty in logistics, Nagisa decided to wait and see if the world still existed. Since, if they failed to kill Korosensei, he was not going to need to assassinate anyone.

Not far from the hospital, Korosensei had just left a meeting with Karasuma. He was getting daily updates on Nagisa's condition, because he suspected that there was more to the story. He, who had once been the world's number one most feared assassin, the Shinigami, could not deny that his instincts told him Nagisa had done it.

Well, he did not really blame Nagisa, though. He blamed himself for not noticing, but that was not really correct. When he thought about it, he had been rather young when he had first killed someone. In self-defence, too. That was normally how it started. And from there, if he could do it to save himself, then he might as well do it to save other people, right?

And if he was going to do it, then why not pay his bills with that skill? He did not like being poor. On the other hand, he did not know that getting that much money to murder someone, was really morally justifiable.

It was because he had been an assassin, that he had failed to see something important. Why had he not noticed the anxiety in That Person? Not until it was too late, and he had changed mentally and physically, into this creature. While he was good at faking a smile, he was lying to these children. Making them hunt him down, twisting their growing affection towards him into a beautiful lie. So that, when the time came, they would murder him with their own hands.

If they could kill him, they could accomplish anything. He did not want to make the same mistakes. It was not like he wanted to die, either, but since that was inevitable, he wanted to leave a piece of himself in their hearts. That way, they would live on with him every beside them, watching over them, the way a Sensei ought to be.

Most of his students were following that script he had written for them. But when it came to Karma and Nagisa, he had to suspect that they knew more than they let out. Nagisa was too calm and tried emotionally. He did not shock, and it was hard to predict him as a result. Karma was actually rather predictable, but he physical and mental abilities made up for that. Because he actually could pull off the stunts he came up with, so he had learned by experience.

He did not see Karma becoming an assassin. He was too straight forward; he made a good special agent, and he liked to play with his food. But he was a bright, burning flame that hungered for more intense debate. A position of influence would suit him better than sulking around in corners plotting.

Most of the students were like that. They had their passions, but it was not like they really enjoyed hunting. They just thought it was exciting when they managed to pull something off. If they did manage to get one of his tentacles, they cheered and clapped; because they were children and could relish all their accomplishments.

He was very proud of them, every time.

Nagisa did not follow that pattern. He stood back, watching, and recorded everything. With a happy smile, with a sinister glare. Yet, he was perfectly suited to plotting, and would affect no change in mood or psychology while mercilessly slaughtering someone.

Sighing, Korosensei took flight; he liked to see different places and some foods were cheaper outside of Nihon. He did not know what lay ahead for Nagisa and Karma, but he wanted to watch over them for as long as possible. Settling down with some gelato in the shade of a palm tree, he smiled at the aquamarine sky above him.


	4. Existence

It was a quiet and unassuming day that it happened.

Korosensei was sitting on a deserted island, sipping some coconut juice from an actual coconut, and eating some citrus flavoured pudding, when his large yellow body suddenly began to experience a tingling sensation. Alarmed, uncertain what was happening, Korosensei held still and focused on his environment. There were definitely no humans on this island, and the few animals were…well, if anything did happen, at least those were the only lives that would be lost.

Hopefully.

In truth, Korosensei knew that he was on borrowed time. Having his human body turned into a six foot octopod generally begged a few questions; like life span. He was, in the plainest words, a weapon. This did not trouble him, personally; he wanted to live for as long as he reasonably could. But not at the risk of endangering the entire earth. Thus, he had decided to use his own death for something important. For the year he had left, before his body blew up – taking earth with it – he wanted to teach those children.

But, although he knew this and that, it would not surprise him if he did not know some things about his body. Such a precarious existence could at any times mutate and then…he might as well ask God for an answer. And that was, to him, why he was still a human being. He did not know or understand his own existence any more than those who still looked like humans. The meaning of his death, would only be known to those he left behind, and he hoped that they remembered him fondly, but he would accept that maybe he would just be forgotten.

The sensation was growing, and his tentacles began to twitch. When spark snapped in the air around him, he moved to the open sandy area, away from the trees. No point in starting a fire unless unavoidable. Within the hour, he had a sunburn, but he was aware that some kind of change was going on. Thus, he continued to wait; monitoring it, he would not tell if it was painful or not. The only thing he could do, was hope that he was not about to blow up.

That was several months ahead of schedule.

He began to get dizzy and took the risk of moving to get some coconuts. He did not bother with a straw, though. He just ate them whole. He could eat many more kinds of things now, than he had been able to eat as a normal human. Still, he liked some things better than others. He was unable to coordinate his limbs anymore, and flopped over; for the first time since he had awoken in this form, he began to lose consciousness.

He dreamed of endless green fields. He was very small…or perhaps very large. He could not hardly tell. When he thought about it, he could not tell if he was walking or floating. But, there was no pain or confusion. It was a wonderful hallucination, and he decided to just indulge in it. Drifting in thought through endless fields, where there was sunlight but no heat, air but not wind, he spend hours enjoying the scenery.

It seemed like many suns rose, but he never really noticed the dawn. Nights fell, but he could not see the moon. And as he sped toward some kind of destination, he wound up on a beach once more. But this time, he knew that he was either hallucinating or already dead. Because there was one person there, whom he could not meet on earth.

Rushing to her, embracing her, he felt extreme delirious happiness.

She smiled, holding onto him. "Ah, you see…" She said, softly. "…you were fine after all."

"Where am I? I thought…" He looked over the waves. "…that I would go to hell."

"Hell?" She frowned, as if confused. "What do you think you are? Are you human? Are you special? Do you exist in time and space? It's not like you are the only one to kill people. Hell is, by its own functionality, only something that exists on earth. Because the threat is the part that is scary." She took his hand, pulling him into the shallows; in his octopod form, he could not enjoy swimming. But now, he could bathe and indulge in the ocean. So, they played there, splashing each other and enjoying the twilight…or perhaps predawn…that was just enough to see by, but not enough to form a glare.

"I went to those children." He said, looking at his hands. "Are they…did they die? That body was acting strange. If it blew up…" He felt deeply sorrowful over that possibility, and he felt that he did not deserve to be in such a wonderful place.

"Do you want to see them?" She asked, smiling. "You do, don't you? Then, I will give you wings." She took his hands, and spreading his arms wide, he did, indeed, feel his sense of gravity distort. His feel left the sand, and he managed to look up and behind him. There were translucent wings there, flapping without creating any wind.

They moved upward, through what seemed like endless clouds, to where he saw and inversion of their city. The plumpetted toward earth, but nothing seemed to resist them. Not the atmosphere, not the gravitational pull. She smiled as they looked at the children; they were going on with their training. Apparently, no one knew what had happened to him yet. He focused in one this one or that one. But as he watched over them in this ethereal form, he realized, they were all worried about him.

He had just disappeared for days, and they did not know why.

Karasuma-sensei was telling them to stay alert, and he, himself, had orders to prepare for the worst…but he did not let that show in front of the children. They were trying so hard, and they were doing so well. Nagisa had come back to school now, and was even more ready for it. No. He was already there. Realizing that his suspicious were correct, Korosensei hovered over Nagisa, reaching out a hand to pat his head. He had not wanted that road for any of his students, but, since that was the road Nagisa was walking, he would not hold back his love and devotion just because he had killed.

And Karma, too; how loyal was this young man? He was considered a bully, and the school had treated him badly for fighting. Yet, Karma had never abandoned his friends. The entire reason he had ended up in the E class, was because he had defended another E student being bullied.

She was nearby, but she came and collected him. "You see?" She smiled at him. "A world without end, Amen."

"A world without end." He asked, softly. "You mean, the world itself removed me to protect itself?" What a radical idea! It was almost impossible to fathom! Could a 'world' act in its own defence?

"Earth is a living thing." She spread her arms, tipping her head up. "Let all the world be green. The all the waters be clean. Let everywhere the people go be beautiful. It isn't like there's only one set parameter for living and dying, dear. Even though you have died, even though you have come back once, even though you exist here and now, you are not just you. Everyone that is alive is living within a much large living thing; that is 'the world'. A living things, you are part of an ecosystem. And ecosystem has components. Like a single cell organism that is made up of thousands of separate entities." She reached out, running her hands through his hair. "This is the form that you feel is the most pure, the most human, the most beautiful. What you do with this form, and how you intend to progress from here, is up to you."

"I cannot see my own form." He said, sadly.

She laughed. "Well, then perhaps you need a mirror." She began to glow, radiating a massive amount of light. In which, to his surprise, he saw himself reflected. A simple, plain human, with curly hair. That was how he had looked at around nineteen; before he had become jaded and difficult. Yes, that was before he had made his mistakes. Surely, he had already been an assassin for a long time. The title Shinigami, or Reaper, was a lot to live up to. But, aside from his profession, he had felt clean.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and they fell upward toward the sky, like tiny beams of light escaping the earth. The image before him faded, and he felt himself submerged deeply into the consciousness of the planet. He could not even form coherent images around all that he experienced, but he sat up on the beach on the island, wrapped in a thick mucus membrane; not the normal way in which he shed his skin, but something more sac like that he had to tear open. Fluid gushed out, leaving the stringy casing left clinging to him.

Pulling this off, he saw that he had human hands! He moved to the water, rinsing off his smooth skin. He could remember most of what he had experienced, in a general way; the exact images were difficult, though. But, the most pressing aspect of this change, was that he was nude and stranded on a deserted island.

He sat on some front leaves, to protect his bottom from the prickly sand, and ate coconuts while he thought about what to do. The only option he could think of, was to start a small fire and hope to be rescued. For the night, he camped out in the open, enjoying the solitude and the feeling of nature. To be free of clothing, to be away from endless noise and distraction, and just look at the stars…that was a blessing that few people every experienced.

The following day, he became aware that while he looked human, he still had most of his powers. He could not seem to move at Mach 20 anymore, but in place of that, he found he could teleport himself upon will from one spot to another. This felt rather like blinking, but he was not sure if he actually blinked his eyes or not. He could defy gravity, too, floating in one spot. From what he could tell, his body had undergone a series of mutations that, from one point of view, were devolving him into some kind of base lifeform. Thus, his octopod shape. But, if he looked at it from another point of view, he had moved closer to the pre-existential life in the sea. If the theory that all life originated in the oceans held, then even primates had some raw component heralding back to those pre-existential single cell organisms.

Then, rather than devolution, he had evolved. And, because he was closer to earth as a type of side effect, he was able to manipulate the so-called laws of physics. They were not laws. They assumptions. Humans had no means to quantify anything outside the most common denominator; largely, because there were no instruments that could measure what was, in his humble understanding, God.

Not that he was himself a god, only that he had moved a little nearer to the well-spring of Godly energy. If he was going to blow up or not, he could not say. The moon had obviously been blown up, and they were saying it had been vaporized, but…since nothing much had happened to the earth's tidal function, he could not say that he had so much as caused a stir on earth. Just a lot of speculation and a few TV specials.

She had said it, hadn't she? He could not quite remember when it had been. "'What do you think you are?'"

"I am myself." He said, putting a hand on his own chest.

"'Are you human?'" Her voice echoed in his ears.

"I am human." He had to admit that he was a little happy about that, and he could cherish the word; not as the corrupted form of a scientific name for a species, but as the word the people used to denote their own existence.

"'Do you exist in time and space?'" He could not even remember the expression she had worn or the tone she had used.

Picking up some sand from the beach, he smiled. The gritty feeling in his hand, and he way in which the breeze off the water moved his hair, made him very much aware of time and space. Yet, time and space went on, with or without him. Just being 'awake' was not enough to define himself, and because he had gone through such things, and he was evolved, he could not just dismiss that question as 'too much work'. Thinking about it, pondering it, was no different than a child looking at the big sky up there, and asking 'why is that there'.

So, like a child, he accepted that he didn't know.

"I think…" He said to himself, and perhaps to the angel he felt was hovering nearby him. "…that I will find out at the end of March, in any event."


End file.
